Though her son, Nat, is older than any of mine, I can’t help but find something of a kindred spirit in the voice of Susan Senator. I’ve agreed with her and disagreed with her in times past, but I’m not going to dwell on the totality of the autism dialogues. Instead, I’m going to focus on two of the sentiments she shared in this piece.

First, there’s this passage, which highlights a problem we both see:

And nothing really changed for him until he was nearly 6, in a school that practiced a strict behavioral approach. Behaviorism was the only thing that could puncture that apparent indifference of his. I didn’t like this approach for that reason. It seemed almost mean-spirited, to force him to pay attention all the time to others’ trains of thought, to reward him like a puppy, with treats, to make him work every waking moment to correct himself. To learn that everything he did was wrong.

Even though my children are so much younger than her on (my oldest is not yet 15) this is still the dominant, prevailing attitude and approach to autism treatment.

Then, there’s the alternative she highlights, which I propose as a widely applicable solution:

Somewhere along the line I let it go. But when he reached his late teens, there was a stunning burst of growth. The sun’s rays shot out from behind those clouds and suddenly he wanted to be with people. No, he did not de-auticize. He just wanted friends.

…

It was plain old being ready. Time. And the nurturing acceptance of Special Olympics coaches. The message that you are perfect just as you are, now let’s play ball.

Children grow up, whether they are autistic or not. Acceptance nurtures that growth, whether the one who is accepted is autistic or not. Think back to your own childhood. Who made the most positive differences in your life? Did they treat you like a problem that needed to be fixed? Or did they treat you like a person who was worth helping? Does your child deserve any less?